


Above me only sky

by Mirach



Series: BT Tower Telephone Group F [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Pre-Arrangement (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Second meeting, don't ask when and where exactly I don't know, indetermined historical setting, sometimes between Eden and the Flood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirach/pseuds/Mirach
Summary: Aziraphale has an assignment from Heaven that involves a dose of suffering. Crawly just happens to pass by.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: BT Tower Telephone Group F [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937884
Comments: 24
Kudos: 133
Collections: Hurt Aziraphale





	Above me only sky

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bright Sky, Night Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513161) by [burnttongueontea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnttongueontea/pseuds/burnttongueontea). 



> Written as part of the Do It With Style Events Telephone challenge - I received a [heavily-redacted version of the previous participant's story](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1muIv7NfUjkZREgSaAPsa0g6wJeahvBz6shZnT6GD7a0/edit) and had 48 hours to write a short story inspired by it. I must say I totally misinterpreted burnttongueontea's story and only used the beginning about the sky as inspiration (then I got lost in it :D).  
> [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26637094)'s a more detailed explanation of the game and all the works and redacted prompts for our group.  
> Thanks to elf_on_the_shelf and kaiannanthi for a quick grammar check! (The story has to be posted unedited with the exception of that).

The sky is bright. So very bright... An infinite blue dome stretching in all directions, the sun a blazing orb just nearing the zenith.

It's all that Aziraphale sees from his position. He's bound to the statue of a giant bronze bull, his back and limbs bent painfully to follow the shape of the false idol. 

The bronze catches sunrays and radiates heat. 

Aziraphale has been there for days. No water, no food, just the terribly bright sun and constant pain. 

A bird flies across the sky and he follows it with his gaze, squinting against the sun. 

The bird freezes mid-flight. 

He's surely getting delirious. 

"Aziraphale? What the…"

The voice is familiar. He surely is getting delirious. He tries to form a question, but his throat is too dry and his cracked lips start bleeding when he moves them. 

He can feel hands unbinding him and it is such a relief that he forgets his task for a moment. But then he remembers. He struggles but has no strength to resist the hands that ease him down from the unnatural position, away from the heat. They are pleasantly cool and he subconsciously presses against them as the blood returns to his limbs and replaces their numbness with sharp, piercing pain.

Then cool water moistens his lips and the temptation is too strong, so strong he's physically unable to resist. He drinks deeply. Then he realizes what he's doing and withdraws with a horrified expression. He recognizes him - the demon from the wall.

"F-Foul fiend!" he rasps, his whole body trembling like a leaf. "You… you came to thwart me!" 

"What? I just couldn't watch… what the hell are you talking about?"

But Aziraphale just curls on the ground and sobs. There are no tears, though. His body is too parched to produce tears. 

Crawly shakes his head. The angel must be crazy. He considers leaving when Aziraphale stops sobbing and looks at the sky intently. There's a bird, still frozen mid-flight.

"What demonic plans are you setting in motion here?" he asks tiredly, trying to support himself on his elbows and failing.

Crawly follows his look. "What do you mean? I just stopped time, you idiot. So I could get you out of the trouble you got yourself in."

"You… you didn't come to thwart me?" Aziraphale asks distrustfully and looks around at the people watching his suffering. They are frozen just like the bird. "They didn't see?"

"No, I was just passing. What are you trying to do here?"

Aziraphale sighs in relief. He's hesitant to tell of Heaven's plans to a demon, but this demon wanted to help him. He deserves an explanation.

"I… I'm supposed to secure the soul of the chieftain's son for Heaven. I can’t use miracles, I need to impress him with the strength in suffering that God grants."

"You  _ what _ ? Is that your plan? Because it's… ugh…"

"No, it's an order from Archangels. They know best."

Crawly clenches his fists, his eyes suddenly wide and snake-like. "Aziraphale," he says quietly, "that's a terrible plan."

"No, they know…"

"What if you just talk to him?"

"I need to wait until he makes the choice to talk to me. Now please, Crawly. If you really are telling the truth that you don't want to cause me trouble, help me get back, please."

"What? Ngk. You can’t be serious."

But Aziraphale is already attempting to climb back himself. He’s too weak to do it. 

Crawly blesses under his breath and helps him, trying not to imagine the renewed pain after a too-short reprieve. 

"That’s a terrible plan," he repeats. "Absolutely terrible."

"It's not my place to question," Aziraphale says softly. 

Crawly just shakes his head and fastens the bonds for him. He makes sure that there's no evidence left and then disappears into the crowd.

He will hold on as long as it takes, Aziraphale tells himself. But his heart still feels like lead as he desperately wishes he could leave with the demon.

The bird continues in flight. The crowd watches the prisoner.

And in the crowd, a dark figure approaches the chieftain's son and whispers something into his ear.

* * *

The sun has set and the crowd has dispersed. The pain is still excruciating, but at least the heat lessened. Aziraphale’s body is in agony, but his thoughts are clear. He needs to hold on, he tells himself. The Archangels know best. But a shade of doubt is already cast on that idea.

His thoughts are interrupted by approaching steps. They don't belong to a demon but to a human. The chieftain's son. 

"Could I talk to you?" The young man asks. 

* * *

The talk lasts until the dawn. Then the chieftain's son releases Aziraphale, his soul turned to Heaven by the words and the calm strength radiating from the prisoner. Despite the torture he went through, the stranger walks out of the settlement with a firm step.

It is no miracle. Aziraphale is not sure if he can already use those. It is the pure strength of his will, and it crumbles as soon as he is out of sight. 

He collapses on the rocky ground… but a dark figure is there to catch him.

"Will you let me help now?" Crawly asks quietly, and Aziraphale only has the strength to nod. 

Crawly carries him into a little dell in the shade of trees. He offers him drink and food. He cleans and binds his wounds and then watches over him as he rests.

"Why are you doing it?" Aziraphale asks the next morning when his fever abates and he starts feeling better. 

Crawly shrugs. "Was just passing by." 

But he's thinking about a white wing shielding him from the first rain.


End file.
